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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29066940">this year I devour</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/clytemnestras/pseuds/clytemnestras'>clytemnestras</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>fem feb 2021 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood Kink, Blood Magic, Dark Magic, F/F, Femslash February, Femslash February 2021, First Time, Foursome - F/F/F/F, Loss of Virginity, Makeup, Rituals, Season/Series 02, Witchcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 22:49:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,237</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29066940</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/clytemnestras/pseuds/clytemnestras</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>after she signs the book, Sabrina is different</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Agatha/Dorcas/Prudence Night/Sabrina Spellman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>fem feb 2021 [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2132580</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>this year I devour</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title by atwood:<br/><i>last year I abstained<br/>This year I devour<br/>Without guilt<br/>Which is also an art</i></p><p>a/n: I cannot believe it took me until femfeb to write some caos femslash. for shame, really. </p><p>obligatory ficathon link: <a href="https://clockwork-hart1.dreamwidth.org/53291.html?">join us</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The flush of power is still warm in her chest, catching on her heartbeat when she enters the dorms. She had spent an hour packing herself up and away, tucking her mortal life into the crevices of her bedroom and pulling the witch side to the fore. Her suitcase brims with blacks and reds, night colours, things that can better adorn her body now that it's made its sacrifice.</p><p>The candlelight catches upon her hair, flushed white like a bleached bone.</p><p>"Well well, what have we here?"</p><p>Sabrina feels the voice almost before she hears it, remembers how the whispered curses placed upon her crawled along the hairs on the back of her neck like a delicate, deadly little spider. It's different now. Sabrina has heard that, the extra dimension catch in her own throat. Things lurking in the dark can't hurt her when the dark is hers to covet.</p><p>"Prudence," Sabrina smiles, knowing the red of her lips make her teeth all the whiter, like an animal freshly fed. "I'm moving in, permanently." Her hair flashes as she turns her head, and she could flinch at that, the sudden coldness of herself, but she doesn't.</p><p>Prudence smiles, too, her eyes appraising Sabrina, the power so fresh upon her she can probably taste it in the air. "I see our little half-breed has picked her side."</p><p>Sabrina raises an eyebrow and unfolds a blood-red dress, chin tilted upward in deliberate defiance. "I've taken my birthright."</p><p>The look says, <em> I'm different now, ask me how. </em></p><p>"That you have," Prudence agrees, stepping closer. She picks up a black slip dress from Sabrina's suitcase, silk and delicate lace, with a pointed fingernail. "Welcome to the Academy," she says, dropping the scrap of fabric onto Sabrina's lap. "Let's see what you're truly made of."</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>Agatha and Dorcas find her at lunch, Dorcas almost bubbling over with excitement as she leans into Sabrina's space, fingers teasing out her hair, fussing with the collar of her dress.</p><p>"Power smells good on you, Spellman." Dorcas says, her cheek so close to Sabrina's she can feel the heat bleeding from her. "I heard The Dark Lord gave you hellfire to play with." She pouts, stealing a scrap of grey meat from Sabrina's plate. "Did it feel hot, all inside you, like that? All that fire from below?"</p><p>Agatha laughs sharply. "Don't be putting impure thoughts in the half-breed's head, sister. She's so lily-white her hair has decided to match." She touches Sabrina's hair, too, then, tugging a little.</p><p>Sabrina notices the little white streak curled into Agatha's braid and reaches out, brushes her fingers against it, and retreats. "I've always had a tendency to play with matches," Sabrina tells Dorcas, watching the light rise in the other girl's eyes. She clicks her fingers and twin flames appear above them, orange and flickering, growing tall in the gloom. "But it's more fun now I don't need the help."</p><p>Dorcas grins at her, and Agatha purses her dark mouth and doesn't say a word, just takes up space beside Sabrina, like a shadow, but the kind that breathes warmly down your neck in the dark.</p><p>"Sisters," Prudence says as she glides towards them, her tone beatific, her eyes sharp as anything. "What have I always told you about playing with your food?"</p><p>Dorcas laughs and leans forward to playfully nip at Sabrina's ear, and Agatha reveals her teeth for a moment, her tongue rasping quietly behind them.</p><p>"Hmm," Dorcas says, theatrically wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, her lipstick smeared crudely across her face. "Undercooked," she tells Prudence. "She's not quite done yet."</p><p>Prudence's voice drops to a cold, quiet monotone. "I couldn't agree more."</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>Sabrina can still feel them, the nails in her hair, the blunt press of teeth against her skin hours later. She stares at the ceiling as they whisper amongst themselves, cry out, moan, laugh. Sabrina does not sleep. From the sounds of it, neither do they.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Sabrina gets the top grade in her herbalism class, the melody of Hilda's mnemonics swimming through her skull. </p><p>Prudence appears in the seat beside her, scanning the test paper with a fingernail, her mouth in a sharp line.</p><p>"So," she says, taking her time around the word, "there <em> is </em> something inside that skull besides mortal fluff and feelings."</p><p>Sabrina snatches the paper back and smiles. "I've always been a studious girl. I'm just easily bored."</p><p>Prudence laughs then, like it shocks her. "We've always been taught the dangers of cardinal virtues, but boredom is perhaps the worst of all. Maybe you really are a witch."</p><p>Sabrina crooks a finger, and Prudence's chair teeters back, just a little, just enough to make her eyes flare.</p><p>"I know <em> exactly </em> what I am." She tells her, resting her chin on her hand.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>"Spellman," she hears, a melodic hiss in the darkness. "<em>Spellman</em>."</p><p>When Sabrina opens her eyes Dorcas is perched above her, her hair loose and her face dusted with glitter, grinning like a beautiful sleep paralysis demon.</p><p>"Don't bother with her," Agatha says coolly from across the room.</p><p>Sabrina sits up sharply, pushing Dorcas back with a giggle. "What is your problem with me?"</p><p>Agatha rolls her head back on her neck and leans down to pull up her long black stockings, gathering up the hem of her skirt so Sabrina can see the flash of lace beneath. "You slit my throat and filled my lungs with graveyard dirt," she says with a dark look. "And you didn't have the decency to kiss it better. I had to rely on Dorcas instead."</p><p>"I'm very good at it," Dorcas tells her, tracing her lips with her tongue.</p><p>Sabrina feels like she's still dreaming, the way her skin flushes warm and the world turns hazy.</p><p>"Ladies," Prudence says from above them, curled in the doorway. "Stop chattering and hurry up. We'll miss the moonlight."</p><p>She places her hand on Sabrina's shoulder, cool on her bare skin, toying with the strap of her silken nightdress. "Get a move on, Spellman. Unless you'd rather spend the night alone."</p><p>Sabrina narrows her eyes and shrugs off the other girl's touch. "Where are you going?"</p><p>Dorcas leaps off the bed and curls around Prudence's side, Agatha coming to hover around the other side of Sabrina's bed. She's surrounded by <em>girl,</em> by <em> witch</em> , and the knowledge of that blooms low in her stomach.</p><p>Prudence examines her fingernails boredly. "Out," she says. "It's the first full moon of the year, can't you feel it pulling at your chest?"</p><p>They all look at her, eyes heavy and glittering like dark gemstones.</p><p>"Yes," she says, her voice barely more than a breath. She can <em> always </em> feel it, the pull of power, begging to shake loose. She closes her eyes and feels her clothes shift, a black lace shift unfolding across her chest. "Let's go."</p><p>The girls all smile, exposing teeth, and Sabrina can feel her own mouth curve like that, to match.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>The night always feels good on Sabrina's skin, but never moreso than now, with Prudence, Agatha and Dorcas running and laughing up ahead, Sabrina caught in the slipstream of their perfume. The moon is blindingly bright above her, making her blood pound all the harder beneath the surface of her skin.</p><p>They feint around trees and slip into the undergrowth of the Greendale woods. The trees are sparse, shadowy things that seem to shift and move as they do. It's like a horror film, the crack of branches under-foot, the shrieks that ring through the night and Sabrina can feel the dark grin on her mouth.</p><p>She's always kinda wanted to be the monster.</p><p>The girls stop sharply around a dead tree, cracked in half by an errant lightning bolt, its jagged edges curling upward like a zombie's hand piercing through graveyard dirt. Prudence's chin arches up toward the moon, her eyes as alight as Sabrina's skin feels.</p><p>"Is this it?" Sabrina asks, pulling up her socks and quietly healing the scrapes that have gathered on her ankles.</p><p>Prudence just smiles.</p><p>The three girls join their hands, and though their mouths don't move, voices begin to fill the clearing, chanting words Sabrina cannot make out, warped by the echo of the quiet.</p><p>There's a sharp sound, like cracking bones, a kind of <em> woosh </em> and then the dead tree is alight, collapsing in on itself into a perfect little bonfire. The girls' faces flicker a satanic red and gold as their hand holding morphs into movement, the crackling of the fire like arcane music. Agatha slips her arms around Dorcas' waist, pulling her in tightly until their hips align, thighs slotted together.</p><p>Prudence slides her arms around Agatha's chest briefly, holding herself close, hips swinging in time with theirs, then eases back, digging into the little leather bag slung across her chest, cutting through the black silk top draped over her shoulders. She pulls out a book, also leather, also black, distinctly nondescript.</p><p>"Is that one of my father's journals?" Sabrina asks, feeling her hand tapping against her thigh to the rhythm the girls are moving to, almost without her notice.</p><p>Prudence laughs, darkly. "Not quite," she says, flicking through the pages.</p><p>"It's darker than that," Agatha purrs, her fingers shaking through Dorcas' hair.</p><p>"Nicky isn't the only one with premium access," Prudence tells her, something in her voice beckoning Sabrina closer. "No one knows the academy the way we do. There are all sorts of secrets hidden in its walls."</p><p>"We could show you," Agatha drawls, her long limbs moving with a hypnotic rhythm.</p><p>"You only have to ask nicely," Dorcas adds, throwing her head back. "Or not so nicely."</p><p>"What is it, then?" Sabrina asks, not realising she is within touching distance until Prudence does just that, touches her chin with a black-painted fingernail and tilts it up to meet her gaze. They're shorter, she notes, filed back and blunt, but she still feels like they could tear her apart.</p><p>"The grimoire of <em> La Voisin</em>," Prudence says. "Painstakingly transcribed by my own hand in the bowels of the library. We used to tell each other stories about her when we couldn't sleep."</p><p>"What did she do?" Sabrina finds her voice is low, quiet, <em> intimate</em>.</p><p>"Don't they teach you anything at those mortal schools?" Dorcas asks, laughing into Agatha's throat. "No wonder you've turned out so moral and dull. No good role models for young women."</p><p>"She was a french fortune teller who offered black masses," Agatha says, the two of them closer than Sabrina had realised. She can almost feel the warmth of them, hemming her in.</p><p>"She was a sorceress with six lovers who made aphrodisiacs to seduce anyone you might desire." Dorcas grins, her fingers flitting up and down Agatha's sides, her teeth gentling pressing against her jawbone.</p><p>"She was the head of a commission of magic-induced poisonings, and is thought to have taken over a thousand mortal lives." Prudence finishes, her finger still resting on Sabrina's chin.</p><p>Sabrina swallows, feels the word <em> mortal </em> slide right off of her. "And what are we going to do with it?" She asks, leaning into Prudence's touch.</p><p>"<em>We </em> are going to divine the future," Prudence tells her, her whole hand curving around Sabrina's jaw. "Yours, to be precise."</p><p>"No," Sabrina says, the fire flaring behind her. "I am sick of being the site of sacrifice. I want to do the magic."</p><p>Prudence's fingers tighten for a moment, then a smile spreads slowly across her mouth. "Very well," she drops Sabrina's jaw and closes both hands around the book, like a mockery of prayer. "Dorcas, strip. You're going to be our crystal ball."</p><p>Dorcas curtseys and kisses Sabrina on the cheek, leaving the dark mark of her lipstick like a spectre on her skin. Then she twirls beside the fire, tearing off her clothes as she dances, the light flickering against her skin like phantom fingers the more of herself she reveals.</p><p>She looks so pale, so slight, light and shadow converging across her stomach then sliding across her chest like fickle lovers. Dorcas is bare, and grinning, entirely at home, still moving to the music the fire provides.</p><p>Sabrina watches her carefully, watches the freedom with which she holds herself, the laughter on her tongue, the way the muscles of her stomach shift and roll with every slight movement. Sabrina watches Dorcas and craves something she cannot articulate, a wildness perhaps, or an ease with the liberation of witchcraft she's always been kept slightly removed from, mortal - and Hilda's - inhibitions marking her out as <em> Other</em>.</p><p>"The last girl that looked at me like that ended up on her back at the foot of my bed, Spellman. Don't make a promise you can't fulfill." Dorcas shakes out her hair and drops dramatically to the earth, her hand pressed to her forehead like a watercolour of Ophelia. "Come on then," she whines. "Divine me. Tell me how beautiful I'll look in my grave."</p><p>Prudence silences her with an arched brow. "Patience, Dorcas. I know we don't care much for virtues, but even a stopped clock is right twice a day."</p><p>Agatha grabs Sabrina's hand and pulls her towards to prone girl, standing her behind her head and lacing their fingers together.</p><p>"Now, <em> La Voisin </em> would use the freshly spilt blood of a babe," Prudence says, the book open in one hand, her eyes scanning across the pages. "But of course, we aren't savages."</p><p>"We were going to use Dorcas," Agatha says, her bony fingers curling in tight around Sabrina's. "Since she's the youngest, our little maiden. But since we have a <em> virgin </em> in our midst..."</p><p>Prudence holds out an athame, its handle a burnished gold, to contrast the silver blade. Sabrina is familiar with this, at least. Zelda's ones are all startlingly ornate, but Hilda's have always been more practical, shoved into the cutlery drawer with the rest of the cooking utensils. This one is deceptively plain, but it's heavy when she curls her hand around the handle.</p><p>Sabrina grins wickedly. "Where do you want me?"</p><p>"First we have to cleanse the body," Prudence says, pulling a tiny bundle of sage from the bag and holding it to the bonfire until the sweet smoke fills the clearing. She passes it to Agatha, who crouches down and draws it around the outline of Dorcas' body, white smoke curling around her curves, and it must be ticklish, but Dorcas has gone very quiet, now, sunken into the ritual.</p><p>Agatha stands and rolls her shoulders back, then tosses the rest of the sage into the fire.</p><p>"Now, Sabrina," Prudence takes her wrist, and holds her out over Dorcas' head. "We want a drop on her lips, so she can only speak the truth."</p><p>Sabrina nods, and holds the point of athame to the fleshy part of her hand, just below her thumb and pushes forward, just a little, just enough to break the skin. The blood wells almost comically red and bright. She squeezes, and watches as the blood drips across Dorcas' closed mouth, watches how Dorcas purses her mouth, clenches her jaw, struggles with the urge to not lick it off.</p><p>Prudence and Agatha smile in tandem, and Sabrina cocks her hip and holds the athame skyward. "Now what?"</p><p>"Now, we want it to gather in the hollow of her throat, so it can flow down her stomach and into the shape of the future." Prudence says, very casually, running her nails around the pages of the book.</p><p>Sabrina nods and holds her hand out, wincing at the sharp pain, the pulse of her own blood, lurching in time to the cracking fire, dripping across the delicate paleness of Dorcas' throat, like a quiet mirror to Agatha's weeks ago.</p><p>Dorcas is smiling, though. Her eyes are aflame.</p><p>Prudence pulls Sabrina's hand back and brings it to her mouth, kissing the bloom of blood. <em> Tasting </em> her. Sabrina can feel her pulse in her throat, wants to swallow as the same time Prudence does. When she pulls back, Sabrina's wound is closed, good as new, only the glint of her blood on Prudence's lips betraying it was ever there.</p><p>Prudence holds the hand she has captured, and Sabrina drops the athame to take Agatha's, too.</p><p>"We call on the shadow realm to reveal to us the mysteries of this creature's fate,” Prudence says, her voice more grand echo than substance. “Reveal her greatest triumphs and most tragic defeats, the rich tapestry of her life sewn in this virgin’s blood.”</p><p>Sabrina feels the pull in her veins before the blood begins to move, her skin pulsing in the hands clutched by Prudence and Agatha. She wonders if they can feel it, the sweet pulse of it, warm and cool in turns as red begins to slide across the canvas of Dorcas’ body.</p><p>It crawls across her skin, carving runes like tea leaves left at the bone-white bottom of a china cup. A curve, like a scythe curls across her heart, the point poised directly at Agatha's feet.</p><p>“Looks like Agatha’s going to stick a knife in you,” Prudence says with a disquieting laugh.</p><p>“It’s what she deserves,” Agatha says, smiling down at the nude girl at their mercy, blood carving brutal lines across her body. “She’s always got her little mitts on my lipstick.”</p><p>Sabrina finds herself laughing. All of them are. The bonfire reaches high toward the heavens.</p><p>The blood keeps flowing, a chain across Dorcas’ bellybutton, and a chalice resting just above her pubis.</p><p>She looks beautiful. She looks massacred.</p><p>"Trouble ahead," Sabrina says, crouching to swipe a finger across the little chain. She brings it up, watches the colour shift from red to black in the dark.</p><p>Agatha does the same, walks her fingertips along the shape of the cup. "But celebrations, too."</p><p>"You'll have a turbulent, chaotic and uninhibited life, darling." Prudence says, brushing her fingers against Dorcas' cheeks, as she writhes beneath their collective touch.</p><p>"<em>Good</em>," Dorcas breathes. "Now can everyone else get uninhibited and ravish me?"</p><p>Agatha's fingers touch Sabrina's across Dorcas' stomach, pressing it flat to feel the muscle jump, the breath stutter. When she looks up, Prudence is kissing Dorcas, Sabrina's blood smeared across both of their mouths, and heat blooms low in Sabrina's belly.</p><p>The buzz of magic still pervades, making her feel giddy, floating above her own body, but her skin feels blisteringly warm around her. Agatha draws a pattern on the back of her hand, then her fingers are crawling up her forearm, leaving little red fingerprints like rose petals, and by the time she reaches the crook of Sabrina's elbow she feels like she's vibrating. Agatha's eyes are narrowed and daring, and Sabrina is kissing her before she's taken in a breath. Her hands tangle in Agatha's hair, lace around the back of her neck, and that pulls sharply at her stomach, the intimacy of touching the same throat she'd slit.</p><p>Agatha kisses her back viciously, teeth and tongue, her bloody fingers curling harshly in Sabrina's hair. They're all going to be covered in her, wearing her colour. That shouldn't make her stomach clench the way it does. There's a tug on Sabrina's shoulder, pulling her away from Agatha who whines at the loss of contact, and then Prudence is there, her mouth on the curve of Sabrina's throat.</p><p>She's being devoured. She understands that now.</p><p>She pulls Prudence up so she can press their mouths together, determined to take more than she gives, and Prudence laughs against her mouth. "I underestimated you, Spellman," she says, biting down lightly on Sabrina's lower lip.</p><p>"Yes," Sabrina tells her, biting right back. "You did. But you won't again."</p><p>"It's not <em> fair</em>," Dorcas moans from the floor, Agatha's mouth leaving dark marks along her chest, biting lightly on her pink nipple. "Everyone got to taste the virgin but me. I'm the one covered in her blood. I should have gotten her <em>first.</em>"</p><p>Prudence rolls her eyes and draws a hand down Sabrina's spine, dragging at the rough lace of her dress, the straps slipping off of her shoulders. "Go on then," she says, raking her nails very softly through Sabrina's hair. "Give the girl what she wants."</p><p>She presses on Sabrina's shoulder blades, easing her down against Dorcas' body, the coolness of her skin almost a shock.</p><p>"You want me?" Sabrina asks with a coy smile, holding herself above Dorcas.</p><p>The girl's grin is savage. "I want <em> everything.</em>"</p><p>She vaults up to kiss Sabrina, her nails clawing at her dress to better abrade the skin beneath. Sabrina can tell, having kissed them all, that they learned on one another. The rhythm is the same, pulsing, relentless.</p><p>They're all so starving for her.</p><p>When she pulls back, she sees that Agatha and Prudence are tangled together, stripped to their underwear, speaking without speaking from the way their eyes meet. Then all their hands are on her, easing her dress down and away, pressing against her clammy skin, trading her between each other to kiss until she's dizzy.</p><p>She can't tell anymore, what's the magic and what's the night and what's just desire, the way heat is zipping around her body and settling between her legs. Prudence's fingers are there, drawing patterns on her thighs, and Agatha and Dorcas are on either side of her throat, moving downward to cover her collarbone, her chest. She'll look like a victim in the morning, bloody and bruised.</p><p>"Wait," she breathes, and three sets of eyes flash in the darkness. "I want -"</p><p>"Yes, Spellman?" Prudence asks.</p><p>"What do you want?" Dorcas continues, her chin resting on Sabrina's ribcage, her breath warm against her skin.</p><p>"I want to <em> touch </em> someone." She says, arching her back, fingers slipping against the filth beneath her.</p><p>"Always a giver," Prudence laughs, her fingers stroking up and down her core, over the soft cotton of her underwear. Sabrina squirms, her face heating under the touch. Her pulse is hot at the apex of her thighs, and she's sure Prudence must feel that, how desperate they've made her.</p><p>"Touch <em> me</em>," Dorcas demands, lifting Sabrina's fingers from the dirt and using magic to breathe them clean before sucking them into her mouth, her tongue flickering, her teeth scraping softly. Sabrina doesn't know what to call the sound she makes, something animal, something she didn't know could come from her.</p><p>Dorcas throws herself down on top of Sabrina, straddling her stomach and releasing her hands so she can claim Sabrina's mouth, just as Prudence tears away her underwear and slips her fingers inside, where she's warm and wanting. </p><p><em>This is what witches are</em>, Sabrina thinks, as her fingers cut a cool wet path down Dorcas' body, teasing at her nipples and then flickering across her inner thighs, making her as squirmy as Sabrina feels when Prudence ducks her head down and languidly licks above where her fingers are curled, Sabrina's hips arching up, up, up to meet her.</p><p><em>This is what we do</em>, she thinks, as Dorcas' cries out into her throat, Sabrina's own cry caught on a grin for having done that to her.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Sabrina drifts on them, the girls, until the sun threatens to rise. The hot, relentless flicker of tongue between her legs. The tightness and warmth of them on her own fingers and mouth. Sabrina burns with them, like she belongs there, laughing and writhing and crying out to the stars.</p><p>Sabrina burns, and shatters, and unravels them, too, Agatha looking down at her lazily, a moan caught between her teeth.</p><p>"Good girl," Sabrina says, her fingers still curled inside and crooking up, like Agatha had done to her, the hysteria hot in her blood all over again.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The girls dorm is restless with music as  they get ready for class. It's the same as any other day, no feast or celebration, but Agatha has spent the last hour delicately putting Dorcas' hair into a complicated, multi-layered braid and Prudence has tipped Sabrina’s head back in her hands to brush black lipstick across her mouth. It feels wholesome, girlish, but also not that at all.</p><p>Prudence is doing Dorcas’ makeup now, pressing her back into the bed, her hips settled firmly on Dorcas’ belly, not even rocking when the other girl squirms. Sabrina is picking through her suitcase, throwing clothes over her shoulder that had seemed <em> witchy </em>only a week ago, but now feel like childish halloween costumes.</p><p>She doesn't notice Agatha until she stops Sabrina’s hand.</p><p>“I like this one,” she says, holding up the red dress that matches their Weird Sisters uniform, the one Sabrina had conjured up to get revenge on the idiot jocks. Agatha brushes it out with her long fingers. “It makes you look like you belong to us.”</p><p>Her cheeks shouldn’t pink at that - Sabrina Spellman belongs to no-one. But -</p><p>“You could, you know.” Prudence says from across the room. “You are an orphan, after all.”</p><p>Sabrina puts on the dress, slots herself between them as they storm the academy halls. Nick tries to catch her eye, her hand, his eyes saying <em> careful, Spellman, </em> as clearly as his mouth might.</p><p>She smiles at him, the slow kind, the kind she knows is dangerous, and doesn't say a word. Prudence curls her arm into the crook of Sabrina’s elbow, Sabrina holds her just as firmly. She walks on, her head up, wildness sunken into her blood.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>La Voisin was a real woman &amp; I spent far too long on <a href="https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/La_Voisin">her Wikipedia page</a></p><p>i'm on tumblr! <a href="http://www.bohemicns.tumblr.com">@bohemicns</a>, let's chat!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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